Chapter: Called Away

The hospital wing had been unusually busy that afternoon. Between a botched potion in fourth-year class and an unfortunate broom mishap, Maddie had been on her feet for hours, fetching salves, sorting bandages, and tidying up after Madam Pomfrey's whirlwind pace.

By the time she left, her sleeves were faintly scented with dittany and her hair carried the faint medicinal tang of the infirmary. The castle corridors were quiet now, their torches burning low and casting long shadows across the flagstones.

In the Great Hall, most of the long tables had been cleared, but one at the far end still held platters for stragglers. Maddie quietly slipped into her usual spot near the end of the Slytherin table.

A small plate of roast chicken with bright green peas and a crisp salad appeared before her, steam curling into the air. She ate slowly, savoring the warmth after such a tiring day, her fingers idly flipping through the pages of a worn, leather-bound book on wandless magic she'd been studying in secret.

She skimmed over a section about focusing intent through breathing, her eyes darting to the neat diagram of a wandless Lumos in the margins.

A burst of laughter drifted over from the far end of the table. Maddie's gaze flickered up in time to catch a group of older Slytherin girls leaning in toward each other, their heads nearly touching.

"...and then—" one of them whispered, giggling through her words, "—he pulled me closer, right there in the common room. You should've seen his face."

"Oh, stop," another laughed. "You didn't."

The first girl smirked. "I did. Quidditch players, you know? They can't help themselves."

More giggles, followed by exaggerated gasps.

Maddie's lips pressed into a thin line. She fixed her eyes back on her book, deliberately tracing each sentence, but the words blurred slightly. She wasn't jealous—at least, she told herself she wasn't. But there was something about their easy laughter, the way they spoke like they belonged to each other's world, that pressed a small ache into her chest.

She glanced around the Great Hall.

At one table, a pair of Ravenclaws hunched over parchment, scratching away furiously at homework. A few Gryffindors were locked in an intense game of wizard's chess, the pieces shouting insults at one another. Across the hall, Hufflepuffs passed around a plate of biscuits, chatting in a warm, unbroken rhythm of voices.

Everyone seemed to have someone.

Maddie set her fork down, letting her fingers brush over the edge of the book. She realized, not for the first time, that she didn't really have someone to sit with like that. Not in the way that mattered. Sure, she knew Luna, Cedric, Neville, Oliver — even Hermione on a polite level. They'd exchange words here and there, sometimes smiles in passing. But there was no one she could truly trust with her thoughts.

It wasn't loneliness exactly... more the hollow awareness of absence.

Was it her? Was she too quiet, too careful? Or maybe too guarded?

Her chest tightened at the thought.

Her little bubble of thought was about to seal itself again — until a voice broke through, low and deliberate, pulling her sharply back into the present.

She looked up, blinking back to reality, and instantly recognized Adrian standing a few steps away.

"Oh—hi," she said quickly, straightening in her seat and tucking a loose curl behind her ear. She tried to push away the heaviness of her earlier thoughts and offered him a small smile. "You can sit, if you want."

Adrian shook his head, his hands still in his pockets."Not this time," he replied. "I'm actually here to tell you Madam Pomfrey's asking for help in the hospital wing. Some student got hurt."

"Oh... okay," Maddie said, already closing her book. She slid it into her bag, gathered her things, and stood. "Thanks, Adrian."

She took a few steps past him, but just as she did, a sharp voice cut through the low hum of the Great Hall.

"Why were you talking to that spoiled bitch?" one of the older Slytherin girls muttered just loud enough for her friends—and Maddie—to hear.

The words landed like ice in her stomach. Maddie's steps didn't falter, but her hand tightened on the strap of her bag.

Maddie kept walking, determined not to give the satisfaction of a reaction—but her ears burned.

She didn't notice the tall figure stepping into her path until they collided.

"Oh—" Maddie stumbled back a half-step, looking up. "Sorry, I—"

Draco.

He'd just come in through the Great Hall's side entrance, his blond hair catching the candlelight. He looked sharper than usual despite the faint traces of healing cream still visible along his cheek.

"Watch where you're—" he began automatically, then paused when he recognized her. His voice softened. "Maddie."

Before she could respond, his eyes flicked to the Slytherin table where the cluster of girls sat, smirking. The one who'd spoken lowered her head quickly, but Draco's cold stare lingered a second too long on the back of Adrians head.

Maddie shifted her weight, glancing away. "I was just about to head to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey needs my help."

Something unreadable passed over Draco's face—half concern, half irritation. "Right. Well... you shouldn't have to walk there alone."

He stepped aside, gesturing for her to go first, but his gaze swept the hall one more time.

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